


This Man

by Corny_Tyrannosaurus



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Consanguinamory, F/M, Friendship, confort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corny_Tyrannosaurus/pseuds/Corny_Tyrannosaurus
Summary: She was left at her own mercy, prey of the worst of rage and hurt. Could a young man with a coffee to help her to patch her broken heart?
Relationships: Dipper Pines/Mabel Pines
Kudos: 5





	This Man

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["This Man"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/703810) by 3thre-question-marks. 



My head tilts with the heat of my rage, my cheeks shrink with the salty layer my tears left behind a long time ago. It looks like eons, but only a few minutes had passed since I…

No. I won´t mention it; he does not deserve it. He does not deserve a single moment of my head to rethink what he had done to me.

Ironically, I can’t think anything else.

Please, God, or Satan, or whatever is in the sky, give me a cure for this pain, give me a reason to outlive my hurt and outlive all these wasted years. Please deliver me someone who can know how to handle this pain, someone wise and brave. If not for me, at least their words of comfort.

Someone.

Any time.

Whenever you want.

Sure, no one will come. Why should someone come for me? I am all alone here in this sh*tty town over this sh*tty trunk that it was supposed to be a funny joke a bout this sh*tty former lumberjack road…

Thinking twice. Yes, maybe that´s what I can do. Distract myself with the details. I´ve done that since forever, I can do it once more.

Let’s see let’s see what I can read…

_This are of the forest was once one of the major sources of wood in all Oregon, but that changed one day that…_

F*ck I cannot do it. I cannot. Even. Read. A. F*cking. Sign. Without. Cry!

I am so disgusting and coward, you little piece of crying baby, how dare you?!

Sure he left you ‘cause you were like this, I mean, why the heck I am hugging my f*cking tummy. I am an idiot, the most idiots in all the world.

Please send something to kill me at sight. A Giant-like-thing or whatever! A monster! Yes, this place has lots of them, any of those could finish the job he hadn’t the balls to accomplish.

Anytime.

Whenever you want.

I’ll wait here, very patiently.

Sure, nothing will come to kill me. This f*cking unforgiving world is so sh*tty that can’t even spare itself from the awkwardness of having another stupid human crying above it. Sure, it’s how it like it, sure it is how it must be.

I… I can’t do it. I can’t do this anymore. To pretend my rage will cease and my problems will go away just by buying a moment of relief. I have not the forces of go for my stuff to his apartment, nor the will to wanting anything else never again.

I am alone. I’ve always been alone. No one will come. This is the end for me, this is the end of Sally Michaels, the most stupid of all the stupid crying babies in this world…

But then, a shadow. There’s a shadow above me, covering from the morning sun. I should raise the head to see; probably it’s just some random perv or even a monster ready to eat me. Whatever, let’s see what it happens…

“Are you ok?”

What?

Who’s this guy?

In front of me, there’s a young man, smiling at me. He looks funny, if I can summon enough humor to say it. Who wears a jacket over a sweater in these days? Sure he’s old fashioned as no one else can be. With his left arm he holds the strap of a red backpack; funny patches it has, a cartoonish star and a tiny pine tree. His right hand holds a coffee cup that sure he purchased from the nearby coffee shop, his eyebags betray he’s the kind of man who needs coffee to summon himself from the dead every morning.

But, there’s something strange about him.

His smile, is childish. Such joy is unexpected in an adult. Sure he’s young, but an adult is an adult, that I should know. Yet his eyes, they look elder and wise, like a grandpa ready to hug you.

Oh grandpa, such a silly granddaughter you got to have, if you could watch me now…

Now I’m thinking twice, he hadn’t gone despite I have several seconds without saying a word. He just still looking at me with that silly glance, yet so warm. Dang, one can see he’s a good man when one sees him.

I may still feeling like a moisty piece of sh*t, but I won’t be rude at him. He doesn’t deserve that. _He_ doesn’t deserve me to spoil a good intention for _his_ misdeeds.

“Ehm – Well, I…” I try to say as I pass my hands over my cheeks. Dang, talking is so hard when you just cried that much as I did. Heck his face features, now he looks concerned. A gulp forms in my throat, if my own feelings weren’t enough now I feel extra touched by his immediate concern. “I – I -I”

I don’t notice when my arms fall around his lower back, or when he receives my hug, or how f*cking long I kept crying over his jacket until this feels quite wet. But I thank him for that. This… this feels just so familiar, so warm.

Why the f*ck it does like this? I’ve never seen this man in my life, and sure he have never seen me in his, but he received me with an open heart. Who the hell does that?!

You know what? I don’t care. This feels just… good.

For a blurry moment I summon enough calm to unwrap him, and I sniff with awkwardness.

“Sorry for that I just…” I try to say, but he quickly interrupts me.

“No no, it’s ok. You look like you needed it” He says with friendly reassurance. He takes his cellphone from his pant pocket, watches for a moment, and then returns it back to his pocket. “I got some free minutes before I have to go home with my…” He strangely stops to think; just a few moments, but I notice it “… girlfriend” he continues with a dot of extra enthusiasm. “Maybe I can sit here for a while so you have someone to vent at”

Ok, now he wants me to talk. Strange. But if there is something true with the rumors of the friendliness of Gravity Falls’ townsfolk I’m living it right now and heck I’m not gonna waste it.

“Ok, well..”

I take a deep breath and then… I begin the tirade.

I tell him everything. Every single detail, every single part that hurts, every single dot of betray I feel inside my rooting heart, and he listens to me, every single word, just making fast questions to give my nonsensical rambling a little more of sense. And there is that silly glance again, of hearty sorrow and understanding. This man has suffered, as much if not much more than me, I can see it in the way he’s genuinely sorry for my story.

Heck, man, your girlfriend got a jackpot with you.

Then I finish, breathing deep again. Dang, holy f*cking sh*t that felt good!

He takes a moment to think in silence, a curious mixture of features drawn in his face. Then he looks back at me, and says:

“If you have time, I mean, I wouldn’t mind inviting you to eat at home with my girlfriend. Grunkle Stan always says that nothing patches better a broken heart more than a good bunch of butter” He says, making a curious raspy tone when he quotes his _grunkle_ , whatever that is. I smile. Someone really cares.

“Won’t your girlfriend get upset if you just come back with a stranger?” I ask with a remaining dot of disbelief.

“Mabel? Nah! She’s a matchmaker, she would love to help ya” He dismisses with eager aims.

Mabel, curious name. An old name for who’s sure a young woman like him. Thinking twice, I recall he says _matchmaker_ as his girlfriend’s occupation. Yeah, maybe I need that. _He_ doesn’t deserve to keeping me single forever.

“You know what? I’m hella hungry” I answer. I stand from the trunk, and he follows just after.

“My car’s right here, follow me” He says strangely merry, taking his keys from his pocket.

Ok, I’m doing this. Me, a 40-year-old women just left alone in the middle of Oregon, I am following a complete stranger who easily could be my son into a strange breakfast that will sure include lots of butter, with his girlfriend the matchmaker.

Hell, and my friends tell me life gets less interesting once you reach 30s. Screw them, I am ready for whatever comes for me. I’ll take it.

“So, what’s your name?”

“You can tell me Dipper, by the way…”


End file.
